Hallelujah
by WinterLoveSong
Summary: For Riku, love is not a cry that you hear at night. It's not someone who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah. .:riku/sora/kairi:. Oneshot. Songfic. WARNING: Character death implied.


**I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor do I own the song "Hallelujah."**

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_Well, I've heard there was a sacred chord_

_David played and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don't really care for music, do ya?_

He never really thought about how he would die, much less any one of his friends.

Of course it was going to happen; it was as certain as the sun setting every day. Like the sun setting to his life, it would eventually.

Hnh…that seemed too melodramatic.

He hardly cried, of course - he just didn't do that, certainly not when Selphie was hugging him, because she did that every other day, and tried to tell him that it was all right. He didn't in front of Tidus and Wakka, they just wouldn't understand, they didn't know what it was like to lose that much of himself…

He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

The sand on his bare feet was hot, blisteringly so. He didn't care. The sun of that dreaded island beat down upon him, burning him. There was little warmth to its touch, more a cascade of fire that rained down on his figure. The ocean washed up to his ankles, ridiculously cold compared to the stifling air around him.

Kairi had always reminded him of the ocean…

Hot and wet pinpricks irritated the edge of his eyes. He blinked slowly, then looked up to stare at the merry sky that taunted him, mocked him with its beauty. Sora used to always stare up there with that goofy grin on his face, daydreaming…

He turned his head away from the forget-me-not blue, and trudged up the beach.

He didn't bother to put his shoes on as he clambered over the rocks and onto the gravel path leading to the leafy secret place. Wakka was bouncing his Blitzball off the side of the rocky wall outside, but did not turn to look at him, or even acknowledge his presence, and for that he was grateful; it's not like he'd have been able to say anything back, anyways.

He ducked into the cool tunnel, the leaves brushing his silver bangs over his eyes. Once upon a time, he would've welcomed the cool air, a relief after the blistering sun, but he hardly noticed the change. If anything, he was vaguely annoyed. How dare this place make him colder than he already was? How dare it freeze his already frozen heart?

The tunnel was almost too long, and for once, he felt an emotion other than numbness - fear. What if he never got out? What if it went on forever and ever until he finally reached the point of no return?

At that thought, he relaxed slightly. _Let it lead me there,_ he thought brazenly. _Maybe at last I'll have some peace._

But then, he emerged into the secret little cave, sunlight weakly filtering through the crumbling rocks overhead. He barely glanced around at the carvings and markings on the wall, childish images scraped on when he still had an imagination, from the before time, when "he" had been "we" and "us."

At first, it had only been him and that silly brunette, until Sora had declared Kairi special and allowed to play with them and mark up the walls with white drawings and mark up their hearts with bonds of friendship. A shadow of a smirk played across his thin lips at the memory of little Sora's insistence on Kairi's presence…and how later, they would play silly games to capture the redhead's affections…

And then his blue eyes slid across the wall and found the drawings exclusive to Sora and Kairi, their interpretation of each other, and the paopu fruit…

Jealousy was a funny thing. It nested in your heart, planting a seed of doubt, nourished by feelings of loneliness and discomfort, until it was strong enough to grow into a thick vine that wrapped around the organ and squeezed it with anger and fear. And how pointless that vine seemed, now, when all he needed was a little open-mindedness and remorse to clear it away.

And he had hardly been able to achieve _that,_ and it wasn't until the plant had grown pitch-black and tainted with the essence of Xehanort's Heartless did he realize his mistake and show a little sympathy and compassion towards his two friends. He could be as jealous as he wanted, but that hadn't been able to change the fact that Kairi had loved Sora, so he had to settle on being the absolute best friend he could be.

In the end, he found that didn't bother him as much anymore…

His eyes were drawn just a little below the sketches of Sora and Kairi, to two fresh mounds of dirt that looked fairly recent. He knelt down in front of them, his face hidden behind a sea of silver and gray, so no one - not anyone who may stumble in, not a spirit maybe lurking around - could see the wetness that clumped his eyelashes together, that rolled slowly, torturously down his pale cheek.

He should have died in that crash, too… Stupid Sora, taking the Gummi Ship for a spin, trying to show off to Kairi and himself… If only he'd insisted Donald and Goofy come with, the King even, maybe all of them could've been strong enough to repair the damage.

Then he was furious with himself; how dare he think of taking more innocent lives along for that ride? How dare he wish for something like that, when all of them could have easily died?

He woke up three days after the crash, in a comfortable bed that was not his own, and with no feeling in his right hand. The doctors of the mainland on Destiny Islands had been surprised that he'd awakened, much too surprised, certain he wouldn't survive the week. Everyone was relieved that he was all right - even if he may not be able to use his right arm anymore - but there were two faces missing from his bedside. He asked to see Sora and Kairi.

The doctors told him that they were still sleeping, still in that awful comatose state. He asked to see them, but when he entered their room, he couldn't look at them. They just looked like they were having a peaceful sleep, unaware that their whole world could end…

A week after the crash, on the same day, Sora and Kairi's brainwaves went flat.

They were no more than empty shells. They would never laugh or smile again. Kairi would never gently chide him that he was too serious. Sora would never interrupt a silence with a joke. The Princess of Heart…the Keyblade master…

Gone, just like that.

He'd requested - no, _insisted_ - they be buried in a place of his choosing: the secret place. Nobody bothered to argue with him. He'd been closest to them, after all.

He didn't cry at their funeral. Selphie howled, and Tidus and Wakka looked solemn. The King bowed his head, and Donald and Goofy put their heads together and cried silently.

But he simply stood there, watching the procession as if he were an outsider, and not the living best friend.

Now, as he kneeled there, he wiped his face with his good hand, as if ashamed of his grief. He kept his head bowed as he stood silently, not raising his eyes to the heavens. If there was a God, or a Creator, or someone up there that oversaw everything… He hoped they realized that he would never give them his praise, never once utter the word "hallelujah." He hoped they suffered as much, or perhaps more than he did when it came to these matters of love and life.

Cold and broken, Riku left the cave, knowing that there was nowhere else for him to go.

_And it's not a cry you hear at night,_

_It's not someone who's seen the light,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._


End file.
